


Droughts in Pink Deserts

by bellina



Series: Plancing in the Moonlight [2]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Established Relationship, F/M, Female Pronouns for Pidge | Katie Holt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-17
Updated: 2017-06-17
Packaged: 2018-11-15 07:39:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,865
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11226372
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bellina/pseuds/bellina
Summary: Pidge and Lance reunite after two months apart.Aka: Smut fic with feelings pt. 2





	Droughts in Pink Deserts

**Author's Note:**

> ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯ ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯ ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯

Solaris is the most beautiful planet Lance has ever laid eyes on. It’s a desert planet – and okay, desserts are more Keith’s thing – but the sand is _pink._ Pastel pink. From the distance the dunes look like mountains of cotton candy beneath the purple sky.

The ambassador says that each grain is actually a tiny crystalline fractal that reflects light from all directions, changing colour depending on the time of day. It makes sense. The view goes from picturesque to downright _psychedelic_ in the evenings. The whole planet becomes a swirling kaleidoscope and Lance still can’t get used to it – even after all this time.

He peers at the view from his palace suite. Like all structures in Solaris, the palace itself is an architectural work of art. Bone-white and made of bleached sandstone, its domed roofs and sumptuous decoration remind Lance of the Sacré Cœur Basilica back on Earth. But he’s only ever seen that in pictures. He actually gets to _touch_ and _live inside_ the Solarian Palace – has been, for the past two months.

In contrast, the room he's been assigned is minimalistic in design. A single kingsized bed sits in the middle, neat and unslept in. On one side of it is a desk and a full length mirror. On the other, an almost empty closet with a few Solarian garments hanging inside.

He’s wearing one of the outfits now: a loose white dress shirt with half the buttons left undone, and a pair of white pants to match. Luckily, Solarian fashion is built upon practicality. The thin, almost sheer fabric acclimates to the external heat, and no one here appears too fussed about modesty.

At present, the sun sits heavily between the dunes, sending beams of iridescent light flooding through the open window. When day turns to night Lance has to be in the palace ballroom for the annual Solarian moon festival, making an obligatory appearance as the Blue Paladin of Voltron.

But in these last quiet moments to himself, he simply longs to see the silhouette of a familiar green lion against the horizon.

It doesn’t come. He sighs.

With the Galra Empire crumbling, Voltron is essentially retired. But the universe still needs them – the Paladins – as individuals. Which is why, as of late, Allura has taken to splitting them up, sent to tidy up different corners of the galaxy alone.

Efficient? Perhaps. But Lance has never been a fan of the new regime. After all, it’s the longest he’s ever been apart from Pidge since he first piloted the Blue Lion off-world.

Two whole months! At this point, each passing day feels like another year. The time crawls. Like watching sand trickle from an infinite hourglass, the end is never in sight.

It’s one thing to miss family he hasn’t seen in years; that ache is dull, a muted pain he’s grown accustomed to. But to be separated from _Pidge_... well, that’s another story entirely.

Lance still hasn’t learnt how to deal with the anxiety that crashes over him each morning he wakes without her tiny body curled up against his. His hands fumble at the sheets in search for something that should be there, but isn’t. Sometimes he thinks he hears her voice echoing through the vast labyrinth of hallways. He can _feel_ her, like a phantom limb – like she’s right there with him. She isn’t, of course, but at night the sound of her still creeps into his dreams before dissolving into another morning.

He can’t even think about it. Because the second he spares her a thought his whole body is wracked with yearning; an ache so visceral it goes beyond any physical need. It’s an inexplicable call between lovers, the cries of his soul echoing across the galaxy, begging her to return to him.

Dramatic, as always. But Lance is a romantic at heart. And all his useless sentiments have only continued to grow since he’d fallen completely head over heels in love.

But hey – the universe comes first.

Her skills were needed elsewhere – a long term covert operation hacking into a notorious Galra prison holding the Solarian Prince. Meanwhile, Lance remains on Solaris with Allura and Coran, the three working to secure an alliance with the rest of the planet. He’d never expected diplomacy, of all things, to become one of his expertise. Then again, he’d never expected to be in space long enough to develop _any_ expertise at all.

Lance is so lost in his own thoughts he doesn’t notice Allura slip into the room.

“Nervous?”

“Wha–” he startles, ripping his gaze from the desert view. “Allura? What are you doing here?”

She smiles at his reaction.

“You seem on edge.”

Lance pouts. “I am _not_ on edge.”

“It’s okay to be nervous, Lance. Tonight’s ball is very important to the Solarians, and to our alliance.”

“It’s not that, Princess, I just...”

Lance sighs.

He flops down onto the bed behind him, back sinking into the mattress while his feet hang off the edge. Allura sits herself beside him. They share a moment of comfortable silence before Lance speaks again.

“It's just that I miss the others… I miss being part of a team.”

“Oh Lance...” Allura gazes at him sympathetically. “You’ll always be part of the team. The bond between Paladins is strong enough to withstand all obstacles, be it time or space.”

Lance blows a raspberry.

“Really? Because all I feel is sad. And lonely.”

Allura remains silent, formulating a response.

“Come down to the ballroom with me. I have a feeling you’ll feel better with some company.”

Lance sits up, considering her offer.

“I mean if you say so..." he says skeptically. "I guess–" he stands, offering her an arm “–Princess?”

She takes it, and they make their way down through a sequence of identical corridors.

As he nears the ballroom Lance feels a strange buzz in the air; a muted energy thrumming beneath his skin, like a magnet pulling his body towards the heart of the palace. He glances at the princess, who appears unaffected.

Does she not sense it too?

By the time they reach the main entrance Lance feels like he’s carrying his emotions in a brimming cup – they threaten to spill over the edge of his being, out of himself, as if his soul is trying to escape his own body.

It’s on the verge of becoming _unbearable_. He stops in his tracks.

“Something’s weird.”

“Are you alright?”

“I think so... But I feel kind of anxious. Like – I don’t know – I’m supposed to be somewhere else right now.”

“You’re exactly where you’re supposed to be.” Allura says with a soft smile. “Trust me.” And with no further explanation for the cryptic response, she pulls Lance into the ballroom.

It’s a large circular room with a domed roof, partitioned into two sections by twelve identical arches laid at regular intervals, like numbers on a clock face. From above it probably looks like two concentric circles. The walls and columns are covered in reliefs, carved into the stone, telling stories of Solaris' founding and history. But the main feature is undoubtedly the domed ceiling, made entirely of stained glass. From it spills beams of trichromatic light, each one its own unique shade, laying intricate geometric patterns onto the milky white tiles.

Lance lets out a slow whistle.

“ _Nice_.”

“Very impressive indeed,” Allura concedes.

They make their way towards the center of the room, exchanging pleasantries with various members of the Solarian council, before Allura stops them beneath one of the arches. She pulls away from Lance.

“Actually, will you be alright on your own while I go look for Coran?”

Lance nods. “I’ll be fine. Enjoy the party, Princess. You deserve a break.”

She smiles. “Thank you, Lance. Enjoy your evening... And behave yourself.”

And with that she disappears into the crowd.

_Behave yourself._

Uttered like a concerned mother.

In truth, Lance would’ve prefer it she’d stayed, but he can’t have Coran and the Princess babysitting him for the rest of the night. He’s very capable on his own when he needs to be – has been, for a while now. It’s just that he’s a little _sensitive_ lately. Mostly heartbroken, and missing Pidge. Not knowing when he’ll see her next, or how she’s doing.

On top of that his mind is still clicking with that incessant white noise, like a swarm of locusts buzzing in the back of his brain. He hasn't been able to shake the feeling since leaving his room with the Princess. Maybe he’s sick. Caught some weird alien fever, and needs time in a healing pod.

He shakes his head. “What _is_ that?”

Lance leans against one of the stone columns, pressing a hand to his forehead. Nope. No fever. His head feels fine... from the outside.

And then he sees it: out of the corner of his eye, a glimpse of honeyed locks disappearing behind another column.

Pidge?

Lance stumbles across the ballroom, chasing the elusive figure.

He’s hallucinating, he thinks. It wouldn’t be the first time. After all, he knows how it feels: to love someone so much – too much – to the point of insanity. To be driven mad by it.

_Lance._

God, he sees her everywhere. Hears her everywhere. And the buzzing in his brain grows.

_Come find me._

“I’ll find you...” he says to no one in particular. He must look like a fool right now. He must be crazy. He needs to get out of here. Get himself into a healing pod or _something_.

_Come find me._

Yes.

_Come find me._

He's trying!

 _Come fi_ –

And then he sees her.

And the white noise thundering in his mind is silenced, replaced by an overwhelming sense of clarity. His skin stops crawling. He no longer feels claustrophobic in his own body. There’s nothing but stillness, as if the cosmic forces are finally appeased. Resting. At peace.

Lance is right where he’s supposed to be: by her side.

“Oh my god...”

Pidge is even lovelier than he remembers.

Her hair has grown out over the years, coming just past her shoulders. Today she has it in two little pigtails and it's the most adorable thing Lance has ever seen. She’s wearing a simple white dress with puffy sleeves that stop at her elbows. The hem hits her mid-thigh, and the material is so light Lance can trace the silhouette of her body beneath the fabric.

He feels weak. He _has_ to hold her.

“Pidge!”

She turns to him and smiles, and the rest of the universe melts away. He’s somewhere without time and space – all he can see is that smile.

“Lance? Hey! I–” her expression drops “– _are you okay?_ You look like you’ve seen a ghost–”

And the next thing he knows he's in her arms. Lance is so overwhelmed with joy he can barely stand. His body caves into hers and it takes every ounce of his self-control not to start _sobbing_ right there and then. His fingers tremble where they touch her and for a second he simply holds her, clutching her against his chest until he can be sure this is real. That she’s actually here beside him.

It feels like an infinity before he finally lets her go.

“ _Pidge_ ,” he sighs as he takes her hands in his, finding it impossible to leave her untouched even for a second.

Pidge watches him fondly as he brings her knuckles to his lips, placing kisses on each one. “How are you _here?_ Since when?”

She retracts her hands, only to wrap both arms around his waist. Pidge beams up at him with that dorky, lopsided grin he loves.

“Just got back this morning. I wanted to tell you sooner but Allura said I should surprise you at the ball.”

Ah. That explains a lot.

“And the mission?” Lance asks. “It went okay?”

“It went _amazing_.”

He plants a kiss on her forehead.

“You little genius–” and another kiss to her temple “–I’m so proud of you–” and then a kiss on her cheek “– you’re so amazing.”

And Pidge takes each kiss like a gift, giggling softly each time he presses his lips to another part of her skin. Her laughter becomes relentless when he begins nuzzling the crook of her neck.

“Lance, that tickles!”

“I still can’t believe you’re here,” he says, lips moving against her pulse. “I’m so in love with you.”

Pidge pulls back ever so slightly. “Well that came out of nowhere.”

Lance smiles coolly, unaffected. “Oh I’m sorry, it’s only like the _millionth_ time I’ve said it.”

She rolls her eyes before pressing her forehead against his chest. “Such an idiot,” he hears her mutter. He thinks he is. A total fool for her.

“Look at you...” he says, lacing his fingers through her hair, playing with her pigtails. “Completed a big mission on your own, and now you’re back ahead of schedule... Were you scared?”

He feels her stiffen, and Lance immediately begins rubbing soothing patterns against her scalp.

“A little...”

“And still, you did it. How’d you manage?”

“Thought about seeing you...”

Lance smiles at that, his entire body filling with warmth. “You really missed me, huh?”

“I did,” she mumbles into his chest.

There’s a pause.

“I wish I’d been there for you,” he whispers.

She shakes her head. “Don’t be dumb. They needed you here.”

 _I needed you here_ , he wants to say, but that’s selfish. The universe is bigger than just the two of them (although sometimes, it feels like it’s _nothing but_ just the two of them).

“And how’d you survive without me?” Pidge asks, attempting to lighten the mood. Lance considers it for a moment.

“Barely. With a lot of crying.”

It brings a smile to her face.

“Sounds like you,” she says, looking up at him with a cheeky grin. And then, out of nowhere: “I want a kiss.”

Lance raises his brow quizzically. “I just gave you like ten.”

“No. A proper one.”

She’s already on her tiptoes, hands tugging him by the collar and placing a small peck to his jaw. Despite growing over the years Pidge is still an entire head shorter than Lance. He looks down at her in amusement as she attempts to reach his face.

“Lance, _come_ _on_. _Kiss me_.”

It’s a tempting proposition. He takes it.

And when he grabs her by the chin, gently, tilting her face up to meet his, Pidge instinctively closes her eyes awaiting the sweet taste of his lips for the first time in months...

“Ahem.”

The two jerk apart.

“Oh hi, Princess. Long time no see,” Pidge says with an innocent smile, turning her back to Lance.

Seeing it’s just Allura, Lance snakes his arms back around Pidge’s waist.

“I’m relieved to see you safe and well, Pidge. Great work on the mission.”

‘Thanks! It was a piece of cake.”

“And I’m glad to see you two..." Allura shifts uncomfortably "...reacquainting yourselves. But let me remind you where you are.”

“Oh, right.” Lance detaches himself from Pidge, holding his hands up in defence. “I forgot Solarians were weird about that.”

It’s true. While Solarians weren’t averse to casual platonic touching, they were uncomfortable with public displays of affection. According to the ambassador, Solarians mated for life, and intimacy was so deeply treasured it was to stay hidden.

Allura nods resolutely. “I’m glad you understand. Remember: nothing is more important than this alliance.”

Pidge scrunches her face, turning to Lance with a pout. “I can't believe I can't touch my own idiot."

Lance pinches her cheek affectionately, unable to keep his hands off her. "Hey– I'm here if you need me babe."

She lets his fingers remain for just a moment longer before swatting his hand away.

“You heard the boss, no touching.”

Lance sighs in defeat. She has him completely wrapped around her little finger.

“Come on, Pidge. Let me introduce you to the rest of the council.” He turns to Allura. “Princess?”

Allura shakes her head. “Unfortunately I have some urgent matters to discuss with the Solarian Prince. You’re welcome to join us.”

"I’d rather take a look around the palace with Lance,” Pidge interjects.

Lance raises a brow as he glances at her. “I don’t remember offering you a _tour_.”

“You did. Just not out loud.”

Allura narrows her eyes at the two before shaking her head. “As long as you won’t do anything that’ll jeopardise the alliance.”

“Don't you worry, Princess.” Lance says. “Pidge rescued their crown prince and I've spent the last two months charming my way into their hearts – they love us.”

"Or at the very least they love _me_ ," Pidge adds.

"Let's hope they love all of Voltron by the end of tonight," Allura finishes with a sigh. And with that she disappears into the crowd for the second time that day, not wanting to play third wheel for much longer.

In the meantime, Lance takes on his role as Voltron’s unofficial diplomat and escorts Pidge through the ballroom, introducing her to various members of the Solarian council. He does not, in fact give her a private tour of the palace (though leaves it as an option for later).

Most of the council members are immediately taken by the Green Paladin, or as they saw it: the hero who saved their beloved prince. But it’s pride, not jealousy, that burns at his core each time Pidge offers her hand to be kissed in reverence.

The thing is, Lance still has his insecurities – still teeming with life in the garden of his mind – and they rear their ugly heads at the most inopportune moments. But Pidge is not one of them.

That being said, he’s protective when it’s warranted.

“It’s a shame you couldn’t be in Solaris longer. I’ve been told you have plans to leave now that the prince has returned.”

“We do.” Pidge sighs. “We’ll be gone in a few days... _I_ still think an extra week would’ve made a great vacation but this lose– ah uhhh...” She gestures towards Lance. “The _Blue Paladin_ doesn’t do well in the heat.”

“She’s right.” Lance confirms, offering Pidge an affectionate glance. “I’m more of a water person.”

The Solarian chuckles.

“Perhaps you’ll visit then? With the rest of Voltron?”

“Of course!” Pidge exclaims. “I haven’t seen a more beautiful planet than Solaris.”

“I’m glad to hear it... And I hope you’ll forgive me for being presumptuous but I have a son who I know will make an excellent partner, if you'd consider it..."

Pidge’s eyes widen at that, but she’s nothing more than amused. “Oh, well...”

“Thank you for the offer!” Lance interjects, gripping Pidge by the shoulders. “But unfortunately the Green Paladin and I are already–” he fumbles through his mind for the right word. What did the Solarians call it again? Oh! That’s right. “– _Mated_. We’re already mated.”

Pidge chokes.

But Lance is already pulling her to the outskirts of the ballroom, ignoring the curious glances sent their way. He takes her behind a pillar before relinquishing his grip on her.

Pidge stares at him in amusement, twitching at the corners of her mouth trying her best to remain composed. Lance watches her warily.

She snorts.

“Mated, huh?”

And she bursts into uncontrollable fits of laughter as Lance buries his face into his hands.

“Oh my god, _please,_ ” he pleads comically, almost buckling at the knees.

Pidge grabs his wrists, still giggling, and pulls his hands from his face. He looks down at her reluctantly, with the cutest little pout that has her heart bursting with affection.

“You still haven’t given me my kiss," she whispers.

Lance could cry.

“If you still want it...” he mutters, still embarrassed with himself.

Pidge doesn’t miss a beat. “Always.”

And so he leans down and finally – finally – takes their first kiss in two months. And he's wanted this for so long, but there's no way he's prepared for how wonderful she feels against his lips. She tastes like his first kiss; like the first person he's ever loved.

It brings to mind his favourite memories; memories weathered and eroded from the years of recollection, where Lance had unearthed them from the deepest recesses of his mind to be replayed whenever he yearned for her touch.

Memories of her whispering secrets into his ear as he traces his fingers over her skin, begging for it while with a soft whimper because Pidge is such a _tease_ , and she knows just how to break him before making him feel whole again. _I’ll let you if you’re gentle,_ she says, placing a soft kiss to the back of his hand. And his mouth falls open with a wanton moan.

"Pidge..." he whispers, lips moving against hers.

"Yes?" she asks innocently.

"When can I get you alone?"

Pidge pulls back, a twinkle in her eye.

"We’re alone right now?"

They hear the clinking of glass in the background and it’s the ambassador, standing at the center of the ballroom to propose a toast. Lance and Pidge remain lingering on the outskirts, away from the crowds. He takes the distraction as an opportunity to back her against one of the stone pillars, entrapping her with a hand on either side of her head.

There’s a round of applause.

Pidge slips her hands beneath his shirt where it opens at his chest, running her palms over his skin.

They don’t speak.

Lance swears he can hear her soft shuddering breaths despite the music and chatter and applause surrounding them. In fact it’s almost quiet. As if the universe had stilled just to cast this thick blanket of tension over the two.

He leans down once more to steal another kiss from Pidge, but stops just short of contact, instead licking a soft stripe against her bottom lip.

She inhales sharply.

Lance continues teasing her with these feather-like touches, pulling back as soon as their lips brush each other and she’s chasing his mouth with her own.

Pidge huffs in frustration, and the next time he sticks his tongue out to taste her she takes it in her mouth, swallowing him into a ravenous kiss that sends heat pooling between his thighs.

As the second round of applause dies down, Pidge pulls away and whispers for only Lance to hear: "Be good."

He’s stunned into silence for a second before he groans, aroused.

“Don’t _say_ that,” he breathes. “I’m barely holding out as it is and you – you only ever say that when we’re–” he bites his lip “– _fuck._ ”

Pidge smiles at him sweetly, having way too much fun with this.

“I’d be more careful if I were you. Don’t want to embarrass yourself again.”

He tries his damn best to stay composed, but not a minute passes before Lance caves.

“What if I just gave you one more kiss?” he asks, hands already on her hips, tugging her towards him. “Please...” he whimpers, and he's a little shocked at how okay he is with begging in public. Oh well.

Lance leans down and nuzzles her throat. “ _Please_.”

“Lance...” Pidge says, slightly taken aback by his desperation. She attempts to pull him off her. “There are people here...”

He ignores the comment and begins kissing her neck.

Pidge gives him a small shove. “ _Lance_ ,” she scolds.

He finally takes a step back, pouting. In all honestly, the boy looks like he’s going to cry.

Pidge eyes him with sympathy. “Come on. You can hold out for a few more hours.”

“Nooo...” Lance whines, burying his face in Pidge’s hair. He shakes his head. “I can’t... I _can't_...”

He looks down like a child being scolded and Pidge feels her resolve soften.

“I can't let you go now...”

Oh, _poor thing_. Pidge brings a hand to his cheek, stroking and caressing until he meets her eyes.

“Hey, Lance, come on...” she coaxes. “ _I love you_ , you know?” And already he’s looking less anxious.

“And I...” Pidge leans in as close as she can. She swallows. “I _want to_. But we _can’t_.”

She’s surprised by how strained her own voice sounds at _I want to_.

Lance hears it too. He takes a deep breath.

“God, you are _so not helping_.”

He lingers against her touch for a few moments longer, trying to memorise the feeling of her skin against his before taking a step back.

“I’ll be good,” he says resolutely.

Pidge smiles, reaching out for his hand, but Lance jerks it out of her grasp.

“But you can’t touch me for the rest of the night... _you can’t_.”

And his voice is so broken and lust-addled when he says _you can’t_ that Pidge almost wants to let him have his way but... they really can’t.

She pouts, having picked up his little habit. “Come on, at least let me hold your hand... I’m sure no one will mind.”

Pidge makes her second attempt to reach over but Lance slaps her hand away.

“ _No_.” Then with greater certainty: “I mean, have you seen these pants? They hide nothing! I am not sitting through the rest of this ball with a...” He blushes.

“From hand holding? _Lance_. Stop being dumb.” Pidge takes a step forward just as Lance takes a step back. He won’t budge.

“I’m respecting your decision by not jumping you this instant. You need to respect mine by staying as far away from me as possible.”

Pidge shoots him a look that says, _seriously_? And he just nods.

She raises her hands in surrender. “Fine. If you insist.”

They stand in silence for a few moments.

“Are you mad?” Lance finally asks.

“No. I’m just frustrated.”

“Sexually?” he asks, wiggling his brows.

Pidge tries to punch him, but he takes another step back. “No touching, remember.”

She rolls her eyes. “Yes, sexually,” she admits under her breath.

“So why don’t we just go? We could sneak off somewhere – they won’t even notice.”

“Lance–”

“Pidge, listen to me. I know I said I wouldn’t last if you touched me but the truth is... I can’t even _look_ at you without thinking about what I’d do to you and – _holy shit_ – _the things I would do to you_...”

Lance bites his lip, worrying the flesh between his teeth before continuing.

“But none of that matters if you don’t want it either – I said I’d be good. The thing is–”

He moves towards her, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear before tracing her exposed collarbone with his fingertips. Pidge shivers.

“The thing is, you want it too.”

And with a hand pressed firmly against her abdomen, he whispers:

“You want me in here.”

Pidge grabs him.

“There’s got to be an empty room here somewhere. Let’s go.”

Lance smiles, following her like a bumbling lovestruck idiot. Pidge shoots him a glare.

“But we're _only_ kissing.”

“Whatever you say,” he singsongs. He’ll take what he can get.

 

 

By the time they’ve found a room with a lock Lance already has a sizeable bulge tenting the fabric of his pants.

It’s a conference room, of all things, with a long rectangular table at the center and a chair on either end.

The second the door is shut Pidge’s arms are around Lance's neck and he leans down to seal their lips in a searing kiss. His hands grab her by the waist, pressing her against himself with such fervent urgency that he’s afraid he’ll crush her.

Lance kisses her like he’s starved – like she’s the last thing he’ll ever taste. He breathes her in like a drowning man gasping for air. Pidge lets out the cutest little whimpers and the next time her lips part Lance slips in his tongue, desperately licking at the insides of her mouth, drinking in her sweetness.

“Lance,” Pidge pulls away completely breathless. “You–”

His lips are on hers again. This time he grabs the sides of her dress, tugging handfuls of the silken fabric up until he can slip his hands beneath the hem, groaning at the touch of her bare flesh. She’s not wearing underwear. _Why_.

He hooks his hands over her buttocks, palming the supple flesh and spreading her cheeks apart as if he were to slip himself in right there and then. Pidge pushes against his palms and wiggles her behind with a soft moan.

Lance is filled with affection knowing that she’s just as desperate as he is. He keeps her cheeks pulled apart, using his grip on the swell of her ass as leverage to grind his painfully hard cock against her.

“Fuck...” he breathes. “ _Katie_.”

And he’s nothing if not totally whipped by his girlfriend, but out of sheer gusto he spanks her right cheek with a loud _thwack_. It has the intended effect: Pidge rises on her toes with a gasp.

“Oh. You like that?” he asks, still palming her ass.

Pidge hisses, but manages to glance up at him with a look of playful defiance. “What, you want me to beg and call you daddy?”

“I’m down,” he says with a wink.

Pidge smirks. “You sure you can handle it?” she asks, running her fingertips delicately over the back of his neck. “ _Daddy?_ ”

Lance shivers. God _dammit_ , she is good. And she knows it.

“Okay, let’s not do that again.”

“Why? Scared you'll come?”

Perceptive, as always. Lance spanks her again and she yelps.

“Such a bad girl,” he says tugging one of her legs to wrap around him. He grinds his bulge against her core. “Always teasing me.”

“Only because you’re so cute,” Pidge says with breathless laughter. She presses a soft kiss to the center of his chest. “I can’t help myself.”

Lance brushes a sweaty lock of hair out of her face, flashing her a brilliant smile. “That should be my line, beautiful.”

And he means it. Because not even a million Solarian sunsets couldn't hold a candle to her. Even as she stands here in nothing but a plain white dress, lips swollen and pigtails in disarray, Lance can’t tear his gaze from her.

And in this moment he wants nothing more than to let her take the reins; to lie back and have her sit on his cock and ride him until he’s sobbing and begging and crying for her to let him come. And she’ll grind her hips just right, clenching down until she’s milking his cock with her perfect body and he's spilling into her. And then they’ll do it again and again until neither of them can move...

But they can’t. Not here, not now. And Lance think it’s just so _unfair_.

He whimpers.

“Katie...” he cries suddenly. “Oh god, Katie, can we? Go all the way? I’ll be quiet–”

“ _We can’t_ ,” Pidge says. “If we get caught–”

“I’ll beg, Katie, please. I’ll be good. I’ll do anything you say. I’ll be so good for you I swear–”

“Lance, don’t _tempt_ me.” It comes out as a plea and Lance goes weak at the knees, simply from her tone of voice.

She sighs, tugging at his collar to bring him down for another kiss. “You’re too...” she whispers against his lips. “You're too cute...”

And Lance glows at the praise, revelling in her attention. He wants to do more; wants her to love him more.

“I waited for you...” he says, voice thick with lust and longing. “Every day, until you came back... And at night–” he frames her face with both hands, gazing into her eyes “–I only went to sleep in your bed.”

Pidge’s lids grow heavy and she releases a shuddering breath. “Lance–”

“And I touched myself,” he says, running his thumb over her bottom lip. “I touched myself thinking of you and these lips–” he pecks her gently. “You have the sweetest lips.”

"...I felt you too." Pidge admits, placing a hand over his heart. “Even when we were apart I felt you... Is that weird?”

Lance shakes he head. He knows exactly what she’s talking about.

They share a moment of silence before Pidge removes his hands from her behind. A small part of him wonders if she's rejecting him, but the concept is so foreign now that Lance simply lets her do as she pleases.

She glances at him. “Let me,” she whispers.

Lance isn’t entirely sure what she’s asking for, but he nods anyway.

Pidge takes a step back and tugs at the waistband of his pants until the tip of his cock peeks over the edge, hard and flushed. Lance watches her in anticipation.

She pulls his pants down completely, and the sight of his cock jutting out, rock hard and drooling precum, desperate to be touched, makes Pidge clench so hard it’s almost painful. She can feel the heat pooling between her legs, overflowing, trickling down her inner thighs like melted candle wax.

Pidge grips the base, already sinking to her knees when Lance holds her by the chin, pulling her back upwards.

“Pidge, _no_.”

Pidge stares at him in confusion. “ _Why?_ ”

Lance huffs.

“Because there’s no point getting off on my own... I wanted to do this with _you_.”

It’s true. Lance derives pleasure from others. It’s meaningless if Pidge doesn’t feel good too.

He brings her back to a standing position, leaning down to press their foreheads together.

“Let me,” he whispers as he gazes at her lovingly. “Please?”

Pidge bites her lip, entranced by his glittering eyes and the sheer sincerity with which he asks for her permission. Oh, to hell with it.

“Okay,” she finally says, gripping his shoulders. “But you better take responsibility.”

Lance flashes her a dazzling smile, and she can’t help smiling back. “I’m going to rock your world.”

She’s only halfway through rolling her eyes when his hands are slipping back under her dress. Before she can protest, Lance slips a finger between her folds.

His eyes widen.

“Did you... pee yourself?”

Pidge shoots him a look of indignation, but it’s hard to look threatening when your pupils are blown with lust.

“ _Guess_.”

He groans, painfully hard now, cock rubbing at the front of her dress. He kicks his pants aside.

“Oh god, if I took you right now I’d slip _right_ in, Katie... All the way inside, right where you want me.”

Pidge feels shivers blossom over her entire body, lulled by his words.

“What’s stopping you?” she asks, undoing the last few buttons of his blouse and slipping the white fabric over his shoulders.

He’s completely naked now, and the sight of him so utterly laid bare, cock straining at his belly and balls hanging heavy has Pidge so ridiculously aroused she can barely stand. She wraps her arms around his neck, rising on her tiptoes, pressing kisses to his jaw and wherever else she can reach.

“Can I undress you?” he asks, tugging at the fabric of her dress.

Pidge unwraps her arms from his neck and lifts them above her head. “Seems fair.”

And in one swift motion Lance has her dress off, hands immediately going to her breasts and palming the supple flesh.

“I missed these.”

Pidge laughs. “You missed these? Or you missed me?”

Lance tugs at a nipple and she hisses. “I missed _you,_ ” he says, placing a kiss to her forehead. “More than anything.”

Pidge gazes up at him and smiles softly.

“Hey, I’m here now..." she whispers. “And you have me for the rest of the night."

“I do...” Lance says as his runs his hands over her hips. “And you have me forever.”

Pidge kisses him again, and Lance takes the opportunity to give her thighs a hefty tug, bringing her legs around his waist. He carries her to the conference table and sits her on top of it, feet dangling off the edge.

“Wait.” Lance says, grabbing her ankles to guide both her feet flat against the wooden tabletop, legs spread wide apart.

Pidge is soaking – completely dripping wet. The pearly liquid has already begun dribbling onto the wooden surface beneath her. Lance swirls the tip of his index finger in the pool gathering at her entrance.

“This is amazing.”

“This is _embarrassing_.”

“Wanting me is embarrassing?”

She shoots him a glare.

“I know, I know. Just teasing,” he chuckles.

Lance places his thumbs on either side of her dripping entrance and stretches the flesh apart until her hole is gaping obscenely in front of him. Pidge clenches with arousal and another gush of slick comes pouring out of her.

“Holy shit,” Lance breathes. “That’s the hottest thing I’ve ever seen.”

Pidge tries to look threatening. “Stop exaggerating.”

“I would never!”

And before she can even reply his face is between her legs, licking a stripe between her folds.

“ _Lance_.” Pidge moans, gripping the back of his head.

He hooks his hands behind her thighs, pulling her closer, holding her to his mouth so that no matter how much she squirms and wriggles his tongue is buried inside her.

Pidge falls back onto the table, back arched.

God, Lance is amazing with his tongue. The wet appendage slides between her folds, fucks in and out of her hole until she’s so aroused it _aches_. The heat pooling between her legs spills out of her like warm honey, straight into his mouth. Her clit is pulsing, begging to be touched, but Lance is being a goddamn tease and keeps his mouth at her entrance, avoiding the bundle of nerves.

In the back of her mind she hopes no one walks by. She'd never live down the shame of being found like this: sprawled across the table with her boyfriend's head between her thighs.

Even so Pidge can’t help the little whimpers that escape her as he continues to mouth her. Oh _god_ , she needs to be filled. She needs to feel his fat cock pressing into her; to be stretched out and stuffed full of him.

“Fuck me,” she breathes before she can even think about what she’s saying. “Lance... Fuck me.”

He lifts his head from between her legs, lips glistening and hair a dishevelled mess. “Are you sure?” he asks as she runs a thumb across his bottom lip, wiping it clean.

“Yes _please_. Fuck me. Come on. I need you inside.”

And how can he say no to that? Lance complies, standing up straight. He pulls her by the legs until she's at the edge of the table, his cock sitting between her folds. Then he grips his shaft, pressing the head against her clit to rub his precum over the sensitive nub. Pidge writhes beneath him, raw and overstimulated.

“How does that feel baby?”

“Good... It feels _good_...” she moans. “But I want you _inside_.”

He’s yet to do so. For a few moments all he does is hump her desperately, and she can feel his length sliding against her flesh.

“Lance. Come _on_.”

“So impatient...” he says with a hint of amusement, but lines himself up anyway.

The head barely breaches her entrance when she feels her walls contract, trying to suck him in further. And he pushes into her at a glacial pace, watching her hole open around his shaft, velvety flesh dragging against her walls.

When he’s completely sheathed Lance leans back just enough to admire the sight of her impaled on his cock. She’s so beautiful – just so damn pretty it’s unbelievable. And she belongs to him. He could cry.

Pidge revels in the burning fullness pulsing inside her. She grips his wrists and wraps her thighs around his waist, drawing him further inside until he's completely bottomed out. And as if he’d read her mind, Lance doesn’t pull back just yet. Instead he rocks his hips against her, stirring her up from the inside. Her walls ripple around his shaft and he damn near _sobs_.

“You’re so beautiful, Katie.” Lance says, bending over her.

“Mmf... love you...” Pidge whispers as she strokes his cheek. And then: “You can move.”

He nods, keeping his movements slow at first, dragging his cock in and out of her at a languid pace. Pidge feels his length sliding against her inner walls, only pulling out halfway each time.

“Lance,” she sighs. “Go _harder_.”

“I know babe, I’m sorry, I just–” he groans “–m’ trying not to finish too fast.”

He’s not even ashamed to admit it anymore; she knows exactly what she does to him.

“Be patient for me baby?”

“Mm.”

When Lance finds his bearings he quickens his pace. Begins pounding his hips back and forth, flesh smacking together with an obscene squelch. She's so slick and tight at the same time that each slide has his cock burning for release and he becomes ravenous, fucking her with all that pent-up energy he’d been saving for the last two months. But it’s still not enough. He can’t take her the way he wants in this position.

He pulls out completely and Pidge whines at the sudden loss of fullness.

Lance climbs onto the table with her, and Pidge scoots back to give him room. He has her caged beneath him, hands on either side of her, and it’s his favourite position, normally, because he can watch her pretty face as he takes her. But today he wants it different.

Lance taps her thigh. “Can you flip over for me?”

“Sure...”

Pidge turns over until she’s on her hands and knees. She glances back at him, arms quivering, barely able to hold herself up. “Like this?”

“Yeah...”

And without being told to, Pidge arches her back, ass raised high in offering and thighs spread apart, giving Lance a perfect view of her gaping hole, begging to be fucked.

He mounts her like an animal then, arms and knees planted firmly on either side of her, shoving his cock inside in one swift motion. It’s so easy; his body fits perfectly over hers. And he humps her frantically, hips snapping back and forth, pounding her like he’s trying to _breed_ her.

Lance feels his release approaching already. Surging towards him like a waterfall and he’s filled with an overwhelming sense of urgency. He wants to make it good for both of them – but she’s not there yet.

“Katie,” Lance moans, voice taking on a higher pitch. “Touch yourself,” he pleads. “Wanna see you come...”

Before she can even respond Lance braces all his weight on one arm, using the other to reach down and play with her clit. He presses his three middle fingers against the sensitive nub, rubbing frantically as he continues thrusting into her with reckless abandon.

The room is filled with her moans, loud and obscene, and it's music to Lance’s ears.

“Mm... Lance...”

“Yeah, baby?”

“ _Feels good_.”

He feels her clench around him and – _there we go_ – Lance knows she’s only moments away from her release. He plants all his weight on top of her, pushing her almost flat against the table.

“ _God_ Katie...” he moans. “You’re so – nngg – perfect....”

His thrusts come harder now, pulling out almost all the way before stuffing back in. Pidge is bounced forward with each snap of his hips as Lance pounds into her. Each re-entry has his cockhead slamming against the bundle of nerves inside her and Pidge feels like she's going to explode.

“Lance...” Pidge wails. “Lance... so good... you’re doing so – ah! – good...”

“Yeah? You like it? You like me?”

“I–”

“I love you. I love you. I...” And Lance is sobbing because Pidge just feels so damn good around him and he loves her so damn much and he’s wanted this for so _so_ long. “Wanna kiss you... and take you... and keep you forever...”

“ _Fucking_ – Lance... ah...”

“Gonna come,” he cries, placing sloppy kisses on the side of her face. “Holy shit, I’m gonna come...”

She turns her face to meet his. Not quite the right angle for a kiss, but they make do: Pidge sticks out her tongue and Lance takes it in his mouth.

“Mmph... Katie... love you...”

He’s babbling now, seconds from his release, and the rest of the universe melts away – he sees nothing but white – just feels her around in, in his mouth, under him.

He can’t hold out any longer; Lance reaches his climax first. It rips through him like a gunshot, shooting hot blasts of come into Pidge’s tight channel. Pidge writhes beneath him, slapping his hand out of the way and pleasuring herself with urgency.

“Almost there, _almost there_. _Wait_.”

And she comes too, clamping down on his throbbing cock, sending gushes of slick squelching out of her and onto her thighs. Her entire body tenses at her release before she goes limp.

Lance slows his thrusts to a steady grind, burying his cock inside her, letting her milk the last drops of his orgasm from his softening cock until he can manage nothing but pathetic little jerks and twitches.

They collapse on their sides, spent.

Lance grabs her waist, trying to pull out when Pidge grips his wrist.

“Stay,” she pleads breathlessly. “I’m really... sensitive right now.”

Lance plants a kiss on the back of her head, rubbing soothing circles into the mound of her hip. “Got it.”

Neither speak for several minutes as they catch their breaths. Lance lazily runs his fingers over Pidge’s skin, damp with sweat.

“Alright, I’m good.” Pidge says eventually, and Lance pulls out slowly, marveling at the way his come dribbles out of her hole.

It’s short lived: he’s beginning to realise what a mess they’ve made. The slick white fluid coats the back of her legs, the front of his, and the table beneath them.

“This is a problem...” Lance mutters, trying to wipe some of it off Pidge’s inner thighs. It backfires – all it does is get his fingers wet. “Where did you throw your dress again?” he asks, propping himself up on his elbows.

Pidge rolls around to face him. “I’m sleepy,” she says, dazed.

Lance pecks the top of her head. “I know, sweet thing, me too. But we can’t stay here.”

She groans, grudgingly moving into a sitting position. Lance follows suit, making to get up, but Pidge places herself in his lap, straddling him. She wraps her arms around his neck and buries her face in his chest.

“Pidge?”

“I can’t move.”

“Yeah? I did you real good, huh?”

“ _Stop_.”

Lance chuckles. Well, it’s not a _no_.

“Hey, come on. We can’t stay here.”

Pidge unwinds herself from him, leaning back. “I _know_ , but I meant it when I said I couldn’t move...” Her hands trace the line of his abs. “Maybe you should carry me.”

Lance stares at her, sitting in his lap, looking up at him so innocently, like they hadn’t just ditched their Paladin duties to go fuck in a conference room. It’s at times like this that it hits him: he loves her so much it _hurts_.

“I’ll carry you, but only if you’ll skip the rest of the ball with me.”

Pidge smiles at him. “I already have like three different lies we can tell Allura.”

Lance wraps his arm around her waist. So perfect. She’s so ridiculously perfect and they fit so well together. He’ll never let this go.

“That’s my girl.”

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> ( ͡°( ͡° ͜ʖ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)ʖ ͡°) ͡°)


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